A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone
by Dishonorable
Summary: Remember those "Choose your own adventure" books?This story is like that, except there isn't any second person "you". Manipulative,but not evil!Dumbledore. Multiple pairings.DISCLAIMER:I do not own Harry Potter or "Choose your own adventure" books or idea
1. Author Note & Prologue

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A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Author Note & Prologue

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AN: Remember those "Pick Your Own Adventure" books where you always use to cheat and keep your finger on your page so you could go back and attempt to soothe your guilt? This story is like this, except instead of going to different pages you go to different chapters. Therefore, **it will not make sense if you read the chapters in consecutive order**. It will **not** be in the second person "you". You will be choosing the action/path Harry takes at the end of a chapter. I may or may not continue for all the books. Title may change.

Pairings: It will depend on your choice. I will try to include: Ginny/Harry, Cho/Harry, Luna/Harry, Hermione/Harry, and maybe Parvati/Harry. There will be no action right now since they are currently in first year.

Warning: This will have cannon aspects like all stories, but there will be AU. Violence may occur.

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Nearly eleven years ago, Harry Potter had been lovingly dumped upon the Dursleys' doorstep at Number Four, Privet Dive. Nearly eleven years ago, James and Lily Potter had been killed, the Dark Lord Voldemort defeated, and Sirius Black imprisoned in Azkaban. In Harry's point of view, nearly eleven years had shown not a single improvement in his life as he was ignorant of Voldemort's defeat by his and his mother's hands.

In fact, Harry was ignorant of the most important aspect of his life: magic. Owls carried magic folks' post and wands and brooms were used and loved. Good witches and wizards toasted his name, whilst dark spat upon it, waiting the day for revenge for their Master. And Harry knew nothing of it.

However, despite this ignorance, magic managed to work its way into Harry's life with his muggle relatives...

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AN: Please follow the directions at the bottom of each chapter once the next destination is up. Yes, I know the author note stuff is longer than the prologue.

**Go to Chapter One.**

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	2. Chapter One

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A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter One: The Trip That Started it All

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Choose your own adventure type books.

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"Mrs. Cankle."

The grey-haired teacher did not appear to hear the waif and turned another page in her book.

"Mrs. Cankle," Harry repeated a bit louder.

This time Mrs. Cankle looked up with a scowl on her face. Obviously, whatever Harry needed wasn't nearly as important as the objective of finding out whether Clarissa chose Mark or his twin, Sid.

"I'm finished," Harry whispered, holding up his test paper.

Her nostrils flared slightly and a gnarled hand took the paper. A bony finger pointed toward Harry's desk and Harry trudged down the familiar and only path to his desk. Hopefully, Piers Polkiss, his cousin's best friend wouldn't- With a grunt Harry landed on the ground, a crumpled sheet of paper in his hand. He had foolishly tried to break his fall. As another result, there was a large brown mush on Dudley Dursle's shirt. He had been sneaking a bite of chocolate when Harry's flaying hands had ended his dream.

"My shirt!" Dudley, Harry's cousin, said loudly. Not that he needed the chocolate. He was enormous for his age and his buttocks hanged some off of his chair.

Harry winced slightly and tried his best to smooth the crumpled and slightly torn test.

Mrs. Cankle frowned heavily, repressing the urge to roll her eyes. Dudley and Harry were notorious for getting into scrapes at school. Really, it was rather Dudley and his gang beating up Harry, but nobody cared that much for details.

"When I said no cheating, I meant it," Mrs. Cankle snapped irritably, ignoring the chocolate. Not only did Chris have to throw up during announcements, but now she had to deal with this. Oh, she rued the day she wrote out Dudley and Harry's nametags. "Zero, Dursley and Potter!"

"It wasn't my fault, Mrs. Cankle," Dudley said with what he thought was a winning smile.

"Negative two, Dursley."

"What?" Dudley was aghast. He had never received a negative grade in his short life, he had never even heard of one! Of course this was because Mrs. Cankle had just decided to give the only one as a punishment for revealing such an awful sight as Dudley Dursley's smile.

It was no great loss really; Dudley was incredibly stupid and was bound to receive a "D" at the most. Perhaps a C- if he was lucky and got a few answers off of Jessica Pelinksy's paper.

Harry, meanwhile, had quickly gone to his desk. Dudley's minions took this chance to glare at him. A hit to Dudley was a punch to them as well.

"Negative five."

Dudley gaped wordlessly.

"Go ahead and throw your paper in the trash, Dursley. I shan't need to grade it this time."

She smiled, a grin that rivaled Dudley's.

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"Heads up!" called a tall boy, "Potter and Dursley coming through."

The kickball game in progress paused and a moment later Harry ran through the field at a mad dash. Pierce Polkiss ­

was fast on his tail and a little while the rest of Dudley gang pounded through.

The game resumed shortly after more than a couple of snorts.

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"You're in for it now, Potty!" Piers called delightedly, "You mess with the bull, and you get the fangs!"

Though Piers had further proved his stupidity, Harry didn't bother correcting him. With a quick short breath, he started running quicker toward the school. The yard supervisor had gone to the loo when Dudley had seized the chance to get revenge and it didn't look like she was going to be back any soon. They usually locked the door so no students tried to sneak in without being checked for foreign objects, but perhaps she had left it open...

Piers gave a cry of rage as he fell even further behind Harry. Soon the messy-haired boy turned a corner, removing himself from Pierce's line of sight.

There were the doors! Harry's eyes stared determinedly at the doors before glancing around quickly for the yard supervisor. Without meaning to, he spotted several large silver trashcans. He could try the door or hide behind the trashcans...But Piers's footsteps were growing closer and closer. There was no way that this would be the day that he beat Pierce, Dudley, and all of their gang...With muttered oath, Harry made a break for sanctuary.

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AN: Thanks for your reviews! If anyone is confused about this story, please notify me. Remember, please follow the directions at the end of each chapter once the next chapter is up. You may need to refresh yourself before reading each update.

**If you decide that Harry will hide behind or in the trashcans, please go to Chapter Two.**

**If you decide that Harry will try the door, please go to Chapter Three.**


	3. Chapter Two

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A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Two: Go Directly Toward Canon, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect 200

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_Edited 6-8-08_

AN: If you are here, than you have decided that Harry has decided to **hide behind or in the trashcans.** If you had wanted him to try the door, please go to Chapter Three once it is up.

All lovers of Monopoly know that I do not own this chapter's title.

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_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley_,

_Your nephew, Harry Potter, has been blatantly breaking our school's rules ever so often. –Usually by getting into fights with your son, Dudley, and his friends. This Monday, he has crossed the line even __**further**__. In an irresponsible, dangerous, and stupid decision, Mr. Potter has been climbing school buildings! If you do not take your nephew into hand you shall have to search for another school for him to attend._

_Sincerely,_

_Patricia Patters_

_Headmistress of Rosalynn Primary School_

­

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"BOY!"

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No matter how many times Harry had tried to tell Uncle Vernon that the wind must've caught him as he was jumping behind the trashcans, Vernon Dursley would never believe him. Magic, or _freakishness, _was written all over this. There was no way that an inferior being such as Harry Potter normally had the skill to scale school buildings without the aid of magic. The fact that the Dursleys had figured this out did not help Harry, it merely dampened his life.

The next weeks of being locked in his cupboard except for school, bathroom breaks, and extra chores were not pleasant. The cupboard began to reek from not receiving much fresh air and let's face it, there's not much you can do in the cramped, barren living quarters of a cupboard except to stare at spiders and think how about how much you dislike your relatives.

Unfortunately for Harry, this experience was repeated quite often the next few years. If he could turn back time he would've figured out a way to prevent his teacher's hair being turned blue, the strange regrowth his hair after a horrible hair cut, and the frequent losses of Vernon's favorite cricket team.

And he had a feeling that the Great Cupboard Experience was going to happen quite soon. It was Dudley's eleventh birthday and even the slightest mistake on Harry's part would lead to punishment. Everything had to be _perfect_ on Dudley's day. Or else.

The feeling had just gotten stronger as it was revealed that Harry had no place to stay as the Dursleys and Dudley's friend went to visit the zoo to celebrate. Finally it was decided that Harry would just have to come along, which of course led to one of Dudley's infamous acts which rapidly stopped as Piers Polkiss appeared. Eventually, the Dursleys, Harry, and Piers made it to the zoo with no further hindrances. Harry even got a cheap lemon ice pop of his own during the first half of the visit.

"Let's go see the alligators next," Piers suggested to Dudley, who was still savoring his knickerbocker glory at lunch, "Maybe one of the zoo keepers will get an arm bit off."

Dudley swallowed and dug his spoon into the ice cream again before speaking, "I wanted to go to the reptiles, they'll probably have snakes that can kill you in a second or less."

"Great idea, Dudley," said Piers, though he still looked as he much rather gawk at the alligators.

Petunia Dursley smiled proudly at her husband, their son was such a good little leader.

Harry rolled his eyes when they weren't looking. If only they knew exactly what kind of leader ickle Diddikins was.

"To the reptile house then," said Uncle Vernon jovially, ignoring Harry's presence. Dudley grinned horribly and finished his ice cream in one bite, inciting stares from a little boy at the next table. On the way out, his poor head was shoved into his plate by Piers when his parents weren't looking...

Harry trailed behind the birthday entourage as they headed toward the reptile house. All had taken Uncle Vernon's lead and were proceeding to ignore him, which was quite fine really. This allowed Harry to do near whatever he wanted without being harassed. He might even be able to sneak off to the alligators...

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**If you think that Harry should sneak off to see the alligators, please go to Chapter Four.**

**If you think that Harry should stick with the Dursleys, please go to Chapter Six.**


	4. Chapter Three

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A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Three: The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

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AN: If you are here, then you have decided that Harry will try the door from Chapter One. Thank you for your reviews!

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Harry twisted the door knob anxiously, but, alas, it stopped short.

"You're dead, Potter!" came Pierce's voice. He sounded as if he was just around the corner.

Harry jerked the knob frantically once more and, to his surprise and glee, there was a click and the door swung open. Without a moment of hesitation, he dashed in, pulling it shut behind him.

The air inside was cool, a nice relief from the hot air outside that caused him to sweat heavily from running. His adrenal started to slow down as he looked around the mercifully empty hallway. A sign declared a nearby bathroom out of order.

"Hey!" cried a boy, falling back on a tiled wall, "This is out of order!"

Harry regarded him wryly; he certainly wasn't big enough to be a threat to him. "Then why are you here?"

"Got special instructions from Miss Rose to get some toilet tissue," replied the boy easily, trying to look impressively important. "They're all out in the girls'."

"You're hiding out here, aren't you?"

" 'course not," he said irritably, "Holton Himmers does not hide out in broken toilets."

Harry just raised his eyebrows before going over to a sink.

"What are _you_ doing?"

"Hiding," Harry said shortly as he wiped his face with a wet paper towel, "I upset my cousin and he and his friends are after me now."

"Oh," said Holton, pretending to look disinterested, "Is that all? Your cousin mustn't be very big then, if he's got to have his friends help him."

"You don't know Dudley," retorted Harry, "He's-"

"Dudley Dursley? In fifth grade?" Harry nodded, "_He's _your cousin?" Harry nodded again and Holton whistled, "My sympathies, we hear all the time about how Dursley always beats up on everyone, but especially on his orphan cousin."

"Yup," said Harry, trying to sound light, "That's Dudders alright."

"And you live with him, correct?"

"Yeah. Real tight living."

Holton grinned, before going solemn, "I don't think I could stand living with Dursley, I'd go crazy. One time, he took my lunch money and one time was enough. I almost went blind; he's uglier than a rat's ass."

Harry laughed.

_Brrrriiiinnnng!_

Recess was over; the other students would be spilling in.

"You're alright, Dursley's cousin," said Holton.

"Harry," he interrupted, the noises of rowdy children coming from the hallway, "My name's Harry Potter."

"Oh," Holton said, "Anyways, you're alright. If I were you, I wouldn't put up with Dursley and if he's anything like his parents I wouldn't put up with them for guardians."

"What can I do? They put a roof over my head and feed me at least."

"Is it worth it though?" said Holton lightly, though his brow was furrowed, "Is it worth putting up with 'em? Wouldn't you rather be rid of them and hungry?"

"Well-"

"Leave, I say," Holton said, "Escape while you can."

He had thought of leaving the Dursleys, but he never really got the courage to do so. The stories about life outside of your home, no matter how horrible, were always frightening.

"I can't leave, especially not right now. I've got no money, food-"

"Here," said Holton, handing Harry a paper sack from his book bag, "My lunch for today."

"I can't-"

"Window's unlocked," he pointed at the dusty window above, "Watch out for bobbies and pervs. Laura'll help you at 15 Krystal Lane, if you ever happen to get to Weybridge."

Harry just stood there.

"Well go on," said Holton, smiling, "They'll start looking for you soon once you don't show up to school."

"Err, thanks," Harry's mouth was dry. With a glance at Holton, he climbed up on a sink and pushed the window open with a creak.

"Goodbye," called Holton, still grinning madly.

"Goodbye," and Harry was out the window, unaware that the boy known as Holton had turned into a one-legged figure of smoke.

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"Dumbledore's office," cried Mrs. Arabella Figg, throwing some powder into her fireplace. Normally, this would be quite odd, but as she was a squib this was quite a usual form of communication.

The fire turned green and a head of a very old man appeared.

"Hello, Arabella," said the head pleasantly, "What can I do for you?"

"Harry," said Mrs. Figg anxiously, "He's gone missing from school."

"I'll be right over," the head said, suddenly quite grave.

Mrs. Figg quickly stepped back and the man's head and the rest of his body came out of the fireplace. He had an impossibly long silver beard and blue eyes behind half-moon glasses. His nose looked like it had been broken more than once and he was wearing blue robes with orange stars on them. He was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy and one of the most powerful people on Earth.

"He disappeared at recess before lunch hour," said Mrs. Figg without prompting, "The muggle police are out searching right now, they think he's run away."

"Run away?" repeated Dumbledore, looking quite old.

"Yes," said Mrs. Figg impatiently, giving him a pointed look, "Away from those awful muggles."

Dumbledore sighed, but did not retort and drew his wand, "_Point me Harry Potter._"

His wand leapt from his and smacked him squarely in the nose.

"Albus?" Mrs. Figg said as Dumbledore caught his wand before it hit the ground. He had quite remarkable reflexes for a man his age. "What's wrong?"

"The only reasons why that spell would have failed if Harry was in a location under the Fidelius Charm or..." he hesitated, but Mrs. Figg gave him a look and he continued, "The Boy-Who-Lived does not live any longer."

_Around an hour and thirty minutes earlier..._

Alecto Carrow was just having tea with his unpleasant sister when something began to burn. Exchanging a wicked smile, he and she disappeared with a small pop. All around England and somewhere in Germany, there similar pops and cracks as Death ­

Eaters answered their Master's call. Severus Snape penned a hurried letter to Albus Dumbledore before hurrying outside the grounds and apparating away, wearing a previously neglected white mask.

Unfortunately, Hitch the house elf wasn't all that able to fend off a poisoned dagger from behind. He would be discovered a long while later in a pool of blood, clutching an unbroken letter. Snape had made a grave mistake by closing off his quarters to all elves, but his own personal one.

_Meanwhile..._

Harry hit the pavement and glanced about for anyone before starting to walk away rapidly, trying to look inconspicuous while clutching a paper sack. He never did make it to Weybridge, but that was just as well. There was no telling what would have happened at 15 Krystal Lane; a Hinkypunk never keeps good company.

_Later..._

"How much is a ticket to the next city, or preferably Weybridge?" asked Harry nervously and was shot down by the clerk's tart reply. There had only been fifty pence in Holton's lunch sack along with an orange, a juice box, and a ham sandwich.

He turned away and started toward a map on the bus station's wall. The next person in line spoke loudly and clearly enough so nearly all the station could hear, "Two tickets to Weybridge, please."

It was a girl with midlength dark brown hair, gray eyes, and a pointed nose. She was wearing the oddest dress Harry had ever seen and a smile as she handed the clerk the money and received the tickets and change.

With a shake of his head, he turned back to the map, tracing a path to Weybridge with his finger. He had nowhere else to go after all; he might as well take Holton's reference.

"Excuse me," came a smooth voice behind him. Harry turned and saw the girl holding up a ticket, "I've seem to have bought an extra ticket."

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"My name's Daphne," she said properly once they were seated, "What's yours?"

"Harry," he replied, not quite believing he had just gotten on a bus with a strange girl, "Harry Potter."

She smiled, but wrinkled her nose when a man sat across from them.

"Isn't it lucky that we were both going to Weybridge?" said Daphne happily, "I was afraid that I was going to have to travel alone. You see, I'm going home after visiting my cousin, Theodore. Why are you headed that way?"

"Oh," said Harry as the man suddenly got up and went to the front of the bus, getting scolded by the driver in the process, "I'm going to visit my grandmother. She's ill and needs help around the house."

"Really?" Daphne smiled coyly, "You know what?" Harry shook his head curiously, "I think you're running away."

"H-how'd you know that?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

Daphne leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "_Magic_."

Harry's brow furrowed. Uncle Vernon, whom he lived with along with Dudley and Aunt Petunia, had always vehemently spat on anything unusual and angrily insisted that there was no such thing as magic.

"There's no such thing as magic," said Harry finally, "That's what my uncle says."

"But what about you, Harry?" Daphne breathed excitedly, "Hasn't anything ever strange happened you when you felt a strong emotion? C'mon, something's got to have happened; it's in your blood."

"My blood?" Harry choked out, remembering all those strange times that caused him to be punished severely.

"Yes," she said, "Your parents, they were a witch and wizard! You're a wizard, Harry!"

"H-how-"

"I'm a witch," Daphne replied proudly, "And I've found you to help you to your rightful place, -in the world of magic."

"Is it in Weybridge?" Harry asked, his mind still whirling.

Daphne's nose wrinkled again, but she smiled soon thereafter, "No, silly. That's a muggle, -a nonmagic-, town."

"Then where?"

"I'll show you," said Daphne happily, "Just wait until the next stop."

Miraculously the bus stopped a minute later and the two children hurried off. Daphne pulled Harry along until they got to an out of the way alley.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" she whispered. Did he? He only met her a little while ago...but then again, she was like him..._strange...a freak...magical. _What did he have to lose anyways?

"Yes," Harry said, clutching the paper sack tighter.

She grabbed his hand and he felt something hard in smooth in hers. He looked at her confusedly, but she merely said, "Magic."

And then he felt the strangest sensation at his navel.

_Present._

"So there's pureblood, where he or she comes from a long line of only pure witches and wizards," Harry said and Daphne nodded proudly, "Then halfblood, which is me. One parent or grandparent is muggle. And last is mudblood, where he or she is born from nonmagical people, -muggles."

"Exactly," beamed Daphne. She was perched on the arm of the antique pink couch Harry sat on and was dressed in her usual clothes, which were stranger than the ones she wore before. Apparently they were called robes and were the traditional clothing of witches and wizards, though styles differed.

"Why is Pureblood the best?" Harry asked curiously. Just for a second, Daphne's nose wrinkled again.

"Because," she replied patiently, "Their ancestry of magic gives them a better aptitude for magical arts...well, usually. Some wizards' and witches' magical heritage don't come through enough, but that's really infrequent."

"Oh, are you Pureblood, Daphne?"

"Yup," she said, more proud than ever, "And your children will be second generation Pureblood if you marry right," she averted her eyes than and a light blush was on her cheeks. Harry just stared at her, bewildered. It must be a girl thing. He could've sworn he saw her scowl for a second, but it was gone in a flash as she looked away demurely. There was an awkward pause, (at least for Harry), and he changed the subject.

"So what's this about broomsticks?"

Daphne smirked while rolling her eyes as if she hadn't acted very strange only a moment ago, "_Boys_."

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"Dinner, darlings," said Mrs. Greengrass charmingly. She had the same eyes as Daphne, but had blonde hair. The dark blue robes she was wearing seemed to be tailored especially for and trailed on the ground, presenting the expected image of the mistress of such a manor.

"C'mon, Harry," Daphne said, not at all fazed by the sudden interruption as she leaped from the couch, "Our house elves make the best rosemary potatoes."

Harry got up a little less enthusiastically. He had yet to meet Mr. Greengrass, who had been at work when he and Daphne had arrived at Greengrass Manor. Mrs. Greengrass had greeted them without batting an eye and had helped explained magic with Daphne before departing to attend to matters of the household.

"Your father's done with work," Mrs. Greengrass said as they walked down a set of stairs, "But he's stayed for a late meeting and won't be home until late."

"Darn," said Daphne disappointedly, "Daddy would've _loved _to meet you, Harry. He practically _worships _Quidditch."

"Yes," Mrs. Greengrass said, shaking her head, "Quidditch _is _your father's life. He had even wanted to get married on a Quidditch pitch."

Daphne giggled and whispered to Harry, "She always brings that up whenever they get in a row over the sport."

Mrs. Greengrass pretended not to hear as she led them to a heavy door and opened it, revealing a large, luxurious dining hall. At one end of the polished table were three place settings along with a small buffet set out, aromas drifting over temptingly. Harry followed the two ladies as if on air and took the seat opposite of Daphne. His hunger suddenly twisted along with anxiety. There was a lot more silverware than he was used to and he had no idea whatsoever how to use any of them. Perhaps he could simply copy Daphne...?

"Oh dear," said Mrs. Greengrass, as she noticed his stare directed at the silverware, "Those awful muggles didn't teach you proper table manners, did they?"

"No, ma'am," Harry said, not at all bothered by Mrs. Greengrass referring to his relatives as "those awful muggles".

"Just use whatever," replied Mrs. Greengrass, waving her hand with a smile, "We'll teach you later."

Harry grinned, "Thanks Mrs. Greengrass."

"No problem, dear. Those muggles are at fault, not you...you see, Harry, this is one example of why muggles are beneath us magical folk," said Mrs. Greengrass, suddenly more serious, "They have no sense of propriety, nor none of knowledge, reason, skill, or even real love."

Harry nodded in agreement; the Dursleys didn't show any of those qualities.

"Mum," Daphne half-whined, "Harry doesn't want to talk about anything of his past life. He's a _proper _wizard now; not a muggle."

"Sorry, dearest," conceded Mrs. Greengrass, "You're correct. There shall be no more talk of muggles; today is a day to celebrate Harry's entrance into the wizarding world."

"Err, thanks," said Harry, embarrassed, "It's not that necessary-"

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Greengrass, smiling, "This is one of the most important days of your life..."

...

"You'll sleep in Daphne's room tonight," Mrs. Greengrass said after dinner, "The guest room will take a while to get ready."

Harry suddenly realized that he was intruding upon the Greengrass's hospitality, "I don't want to intrude-"

"Don't be stupid, Harry," Daphne said, cuffing him lightly on the back, "Your ours now. You've signed the contract when you came on the bus with me."

Harry laughed, before saying, "Are you sure...?"

"Of course," Mrs. Greengrass replied, putting an arm around him, "You're a wizarding hero, not to mention a very sweet boy."

"Hero?"

"Daphne'll explain it later," Mrs. Greengrass dismissed, "Right now it's time for bed, there's a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Alright," agreed Harry after a pause. The Greengrasses hadn't led him astray before, in fact, Harry even considered them great friends, the first he had ever had.

"Goodnight," said Mrs. Greengrass, hugging Daphne and kissing her on the forehead. She turned and before Harry could even comprehend, did the same to him.

"Goodnight, mum," said Daphne.

"Goodnight," Harry muttered. He hadn't remembered ever being kissed goodnight before; it was quite nice he decided.

Mrs. Greengrass disappeared behind a door down and Daphne led Harry by the hand down the hallway a ways. Finally they came to a door that had _Daphne_ in silver letters on it.

"This is my room," said Daphne, though it was obvious. She pulled open the door to reveal a large bedroom decked in green, mahogany, and silver. There were two queen beds next to each with some room apart that looked comfortable enough to lie in forever. It was apparent by now that the Greengrasses were wealthy. Harry couldn't even imagine what the master suite would be like.

"You get the left," called Daphne, going to her large wardrobe, "A set of pajamas are on it." She pulled out a silk pink nightgown before disappearing into a doorway that Harry assumed led to her bathroom. He dressed fast, lest Daphne walked in on him changing. He was thankful because she was a quick dresser and reappeared soon, quickly grabbing a fat pillow and nailing him in the chest, initiating a long, drawn out fight 'til the death.

Later that night...

"Why couldn't Tracey Davis or Pansy Parkinson have taken care of him?" Daphne asked irritably in a typical childlike manner.

"The Davises' loyalty are being questioned," said Mrs. Greengrass patiently, "And Pansy Parkinson looks like a cow besides being promised to Draco, Daphne. You should be _honored_ that you are serving Our Master."

Daphne sighed, "I am, -Draco's in a fit of jealousy...he's just so _annoying_."

"I know, Daph, I know," Mrs. Greengrass soothed, "But perhaps he'll grow more tolerable with time."

"I hope so," said Daphne, wrinkling her nose, "He's such a little curious goody-goody. I don't see why Our Master couldn't just kill him."

_Crack!_

"Never question Our Lord," said Mrs. Greengrass angrily as Daphne held her smarting cheek, "Never."

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_"How does it go with Potter, Greengrass?"_

_"Very well, my lord. My wife reports that Daphne has successfully befriended the boy and implanted the beginnings of our beliefs. He is even going to be staying with us."_

_"Excellent, Lucius will take care of the paperwork so Dumbledore cannot interfere."_

_..._

_"It is a wonder...what a friendly hand and a compulsion charm can do to a mere boy."_

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AN: I took advantage of Hinkypunks and added to their powers and habits.

**Please go to Chapter Five once it is up.**


	5. Chapter Four

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A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Four: Those People You Meet on the Street That Are So Annoying You're Really Glad That You're Never Going to See Them Ever Again

_**I have edited Chapter Two; please go back and reread it. You will be extremely confused if you don't.**_

**If you are here that means you have decided that Harry will sneak off to the alligators from Chapter Two.**

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Without another look at the Dursleys and Piers, Harry turned to the directory and followed the described route to the alligator exhibit. Straight, then left, then straight again, and then right...and there were the alligators. There were six or eight of them, lazing around or eating the food pellets visitors threw down. It was only too bad that Harry didn't have any spare change to buy any food.

He looked intently at one that was lazily swimming and he heard a small child call, "Oh, mummy, look at that crocodile."

There was a disdainful sniff beside him and Harry turned to see a bushy haired girl with a frown on her face.

"These are alligators, not crocodiles," she explained, "You can primarily tell by their snouts, alligators have a broad one while crocodiles have a thinner one. Also, alligators are mostly gray or black in color and crocodiles-"

"She's just a little kid," Harry interrupted, sure she was going to lecture him on _all_ the differences between crocodiles and alligators, -mannerisms, appearance, habitat, internal organs, etc.

She looked disapprovingly at him, "You're never too young to learn, you know."

Harry shrugged, "Whatever."

The girl's frown deepened, "And you are?"

"Harry Potter," he replied. The girl was starting to grate on his nerves more and more...

"Hermione Granger," she said, sticking out her hand, "Age eleven."

"Ten," Harry said, reluctantly shaking her hand.

She looked delighted, smiling revealing large front teeth, "What's your summer reading list? I've already read all of my books and a few extra. –How far have you gotten?"

"Err, I haven't started yet."

"Well, you should," she lectured, "So it doesn't catch up to you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry muttered, stepping a bit away and closer to the railing, but she followed, continuing to chatter.

"I was ever so excited to come to _the _London Zoo, my mother and father decided to treat me for my good grades," she smiled and started to speak, but Harry pretended not to notice and interrupted.

"I came with my cousin, -he's celebrating his birthday," Harry said quickly, "In fact, I should be getting back to him."

Hermione looked annoyed, "Why'd you leave him on his birthday in the first place?"

"He wanted to go see the snakes and I wanted to see the alligators so we split up," Harry explained, "I'm going to go now, though, so goodbye um, Hermione."

"Goodbye," she replied politely, though she still looked peeved.

And Harry hightailed it out of there.

OoO

The cool, dark reptile house provided relief from the Sun that had Uncle Vernon sweating like a pig. To Harry's surprise, it was very nearly empty. He had thought this would be a popular attraction, next to the lions, but there was only an elderly woman staring curiously at the plaque next to an entanglement of small snakes along with the Dursleys and Piers. They took no note of Harry, having followed Uncle Vernon's lead, ignoring him.

"Let's go, mum," Dudley finally said irritably, "None of these are any interesting."

"Alright, Dudley," said Aunt Petunia lovingly, "Where would you and Piers like to go next?"

"How about the alligators?" Piers suggested again.

Dudley shook his head, "Nah, let's go look at the lions. Maybe they'll be being fed!"

Piers looked irritated for half a second before gamely following the bigger boy's lead. Unfortunately for Dudley, the lions were not being fed, but he managed to still have a good birthday, bullying several kids out of souvenirs, ("They gave them to me once they found it was my birthday, mum."), and money when his parents weren't looking.

Harry never did see the forceful, bossy-voiced Hermione Granger that day again, but fate loved to be a cruel bitch and once more pushed them together again on a train, set to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy...for Harry was a wizard and Hermione was a witch and Hogwarts was one of the better places to learn how to be the best damn wizard or witch you could be.

OoO

Somehow, Harry ended up at Kings Cross with a ticket to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, a wand, a snowy owl, and absolutely no idea how to get on the train to his new school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. -Hagrid had forgotten to tell him.

"Now what's the platform number?" a woman asked behind him.

"Nine and three quarters!" said a little girl's high voice, "Oh, mum, can't I go? Can't I?"

Harry turned around instantly at the girl's announcement of their platform destination. There was a large family of redheads and if their conversation was true then they were magical like Harry.

"You only have one more year of waiting, Ginny. Now be quiet," said the mother, "You go first, Percy, and show Ron how it's done."

A tall boy, probably the oldest by the looks of it, marched importantly to the diving barrier between platforms nine and ten. A pack of tourists swarming about blocked Harry's sight though, and the boy had disappeared by the time Harry could see again, but he waited. The others looked of school age too and they would surely get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters via the same way.

A boy named Fred, -no George –no really Fred, went next and then his twin, George. They had both ran quickly to the same place as Percy, but had disappeared within the blink of an eye. Perhaps a magical device or trapdoor transported them to the correct Platform?

"Go ahead, Ron," the plump mother was looking around for someone as the smallest redhead boy headed in the same direction as his brothers. The woman spotted Harry ducking his head a way as soon as she saw him. She smiled broadly as she strode toward him.

"Is this your first time going to Hogwarts, dear?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry, "Do you know how to get onto the platform?"

Her smile deepened, "Don't worry; all you have to do is walk straight at that barrier between platforms nine and ten. You'll go right through to the correct platform. Go ahead, dear."

"Alright," said Harry. He started at a trot and then began to run toward the barrier...but the crash did not come.

There was a scarlet train next to a platform that was packed with witches and wizards, hugging children, handing off items and pets, talking...He walked amongst the crowd, passing a boy who had lost his toad and his grandmother and then a boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Go on Lee, give us a look."

He lifted the lid of the box in his arms, and the surrounding crowd shrieked in delight as something poked out a long hairy leg. Harry looked on curiously. Sharing a cupboard with them, had somewhat endeared, or at least allowed him to tolerate spiders and it looked like there was a tarantula in the box. Another leg poked out and the crowd pressed closer, blocking his view and he moved on until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train.

He stowed his snowy owl which had been a gift from Hagrid in first and pulled out his wand. He had looked through his school books previously, out of curiosity and in search of a name for his owl, and had come upon a neat spell.

Squinting his eyes a bit, Harry swished and flicked his wand, "_Wingardium Leviosa," _tried Harry. His trunk didn't move. With a quick look around to make sure no one had saw his pitiful attempt, Harry tried once more, more eager to succeed lest someone see his failure at magic, "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

To his delight his trunk rose and followed his wand movement and was stowed in the corner of the compartment.

"Oh, that's the levitation charm!"

Harry turned to see an impressed bushy-haired girl grinning, revealing large front teeth.

"Oh, you're the boy from the zoo," she said, looking delighted at seeing a familiar face, even if it was one she wasn't sure she really liked.

"And you're...Hermione, right? Hermione Ranger?"

"Granger," she corrected, "I didn't know you were famous! I read all about you in the extra books I picked up at Flourish and Blott's."

"I haven't been interviewed," Harry cautioned, noting that Hermione still retained the same mannerisms she had had at the zoo.

In fact, she looked positively scandalized that anyone would even hint that a supposedly nonfiction book was not factual.

"Well, perhaps they interviewed people who knew your family."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged.

"Anyways," Hermione continue on, "I haven't been able to get the levitation charm," she looked rather annoyed at this, "Would you mind helping me with it?"

"Just make sure you do the wand movements correctly and say the words clearly, that's supposed to be very important."

Hermione nodded, but she seemed irritated at the poor aid, "Thanks, I suppose. Can I join you?"

"Actually," said Harry, "I'm kind of with someone, -oi! Mate!"

A nearby boy with blonde hair turned at the call and Harry nodded at him, smiling but looking rather pleadingly at him.

"Weren't we just about to play um, chess?"

"...Sure," said the blonde boy amusedly, "Just about to, mate."

"You can join us, if you want," Harry said, sounding as if he preferred if she didn't.

"That's alright," said Hermione frostily, "I'll go find another compartment. -I wouldn't want to disturb your chess game after all."

And without another word, she flounced off. Making sure she was out of earshot, Harry turned to the boy, "Thanks, she's right annoying, that one," Harry said, shaking his head, "I owe you one."

The boy grinned, "Think nothing of it, mate. The name's Terry Boot, Halfblood from Bristol."

"Harry Potter, err, Halfblood too," Harry held out his hand and Terry shook it briskly.

"Now what's this about a chess game, Harry?"

_Later..._

Except the run in with Hermione Granger, the train ride had been pleasant all around. Terry Boot had declared he was going to Ravenclaw as "all the other houses sound like shite. Nobody trusts Slytherins, Hufflepuffs are looked down upon, and Gryffindors are known as all brawn and no brain golden children." He had a little sister called Sheila and was hoping to have a job in the Ministry of Magic someday, preferably the Department of Mysteries. ("I bet they're doing all sorts of cool experiments in there!")

However, they had been interrupted once more by a redhead named Ron, the youngest of the Weasley brood whose mother had helped Harry get onto the platform. Without so much as a how-do-you-do he settled in and proceeded to tell them he was aiming for Gryffindor. Ignoring his rude intrusion, Ron proved to be an alright fellow, if not dense in most manners excluding chess, which he whipped both Terry and Harry in...

"Boot, Terry!"

The stern witch called Professor Minerva McGonagall startled Harry out of his thoughts as she announced his new acquaintance's name.

Terry stepped eagerly forward, beaming charmingly at his professors. Only a greasy-haired man seemed to have a bad reaction, scowling ferociously. If anyone had been quite close to him, he or she could've heard the man mutter, "Obnoxious little brat". The sorting hat than proceeded to grant Terry's wishes and landed him in Ravenclaw after a few minutes of deliberation.

The next name called that Harry took note of was, "Granger, Hermione!"

She nimbly stepped around people from the back of the line, but shoved past Harry rather roughly. Hermione took even longer than Terry, but was eventually sorted into Gryffindor. Harry was glad; although Ron had told Terry and him to shoot for Gryffindor, they both had decided to go to Ravenclaw. It was certainly nice that Granger wasn't in the same house as him.

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

Only a few seconds later, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

A roaring applause from the table under a yellow and black banner depicting an eagle burst into applause and then –"Potter, Harry!"

"Go for Gryffindor," Ron Weasley whispered one last time as Harry passed by him and walked quickly over to the stool amidst whispers. The hat dropped over his eyes as soon as he sat down and he waited patiently.

"Hmm...very difficult, you are, Mr. Potter...A good deal of courage...not to mention some smarts and the talent to achieve...and oh my yes, the ambition to achieve success and a place for yourself...what's this? Oh...you certainly want a place for yourself...You are certainly very just; though your venom for your living relatives is unfortunate...hmm, but it seems you want Ravenclaw, Mr. Potter..."

_Yes, please. I'd like to be in the same house as Terry._

"Yes, that is quite nice, but that's also a Hufflepuff way of thinking Mr. Potter...not to mention your raw courage and ambition. The other houses do outshine your little Ravenclaw tendencies..."

_I swear, I'll become the biggest bookworm you've ever seen if you put me in Ravenclaw._

The hat chuckled quietly, "Oh, but it's your talent and good mind that enables you to go into RAVENCLAW!"

The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall and Harry pulled it off to face the occupants excluding the professors. (Had he turned he would've seen a sneering Potions Professor, a disappointed Headmaster, and beaming tiny Head of Ravenclaw.) More than the a few Gryffindors at their table looked disappointed at this announcement and Ron looked absolutely flabbergasted for some reason...but over on the right, the table under a blue and bronze banner depicting an eagle burst into applause and he could hear Terry cheering...

"Sorry, Ron," whispered Harry as he passed the redhead as he headed toward the Ravenclaw table. Terry made room, clapping him on the back, and Harry sat down, grinning widely.

OoO

**Please go to Chapter Ten once it is up.**


	6. Chapter Five

OoO

A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Five:

Round One: Daphne Vs. Ron

OoO

The next few years passed quickly. Harry was introduced to Daphne's cousin and best friend, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini, an already tall, fair boy. And he had changed very much while staying with the Greengrasses.

He now lived in the former guest room and was officially a legal resident of the Greengrass household, which had occurred under the table at the Ministry with the aid of Lucius Malfoy. (Dumbledore and the general public had yet to hear this particular news and as of such Dumbledore were still quietly searching for the Boy-Who-Lived.)

Harry had grown a few inches and, with the careful nurturing of the Greengrasses, was being slowly educated into the mannerisms of a Slytherin. There was still the rather annoying habit of his desire to befriend everyone, despite their blood and the status of inferiority, but there was still time to nip that before he came of legal age. If worse came to worse, there was also the last choice of interfering spellwork.

It had finally been eleven years since Voldemort's defeat and the year that the Boy-Who-Lived and his close friend Daphne would attend Hogwarts. Daphne was earnestly shooting for Slytherin and, as she was his best friend, Harry was shooting for Slytherin as well. He didn't really want to be thrust into a house where he knew no one.

He kept on worrying, however. Daphne had remarked quite often that he had the _most_ annoying Gryffindor qualities.

"Weasleys," muttered Daphne disdainfully, tilting her head toward the train compartment's window that held the image of a crowd of redheads.

"Aren't they the populous muggle lovers?" asked Harry, stowing his trunk overhead.

"Yes, the filthy blood traitors," Daphne confirmed, "Gryffindors, the lot of them, so luckily we won't have to deal with them that much, Harry."

Harry nodded, though his insides were twisting. What if he did make it into Gryffindor? The redheads didn't look so bad -no, they were muggle-loving blood traitors, they were beneath him. It wouldn't do to consort with them of course...but still, there seemed to be a boy his age...However charming Blaise was or enthusiastic Mr. Greengrass was, Harry desired a fellow boy to shout over Quidditch with and grumble over tests with.

"Harry."

He looked away from the window to see Daphne's disapproving face.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to fetch Tracey and Blaise, hold the compartment, okay?" She really shouldn't leave him; she had seen the way he had looked at the Weasleys, but it was impertinent that Blaise join them and effectively bond with Harry and her on their first train ride to Hogwarts. Harry needed a close male friend and there wasn't anyone suitable enough except for Blaise. Draco Malfoy was in his own world, Theodore Nott was of questionable sort, and Crabbe and Goyle were entirely too stupid.

Tracey...she needed watching like Harry...

"Alright."

"Don't let anyone in."

"Sure, Daphne," agreed Harry, far too complacently for Daphne's likening, "I want a quick review of Transfiguration anyways."

With one last look at the messy-haired boy struggling with his trunk, Daphne left the compartment uneasily. She only wished she knew a locking spell.

OoO

"Can I sit here?" asked a pale, befreckled redhead. It was a Weasley boy, the one who looked around Harry's age, if not a year older.

Harry reluctantly tore his eyes from the Transfiguration text, "Err, a friend of mine is and she doesn't really like," Harry's voice dropped here, "Blood traitors."

The redhead recoiled, "And you?" he said fiercely.

"I don't know," Harry finally said, "Daphne's my only good friend."

"Sounds like you need to make better friends," said the boy roughly, "That's a bloody dark, prejudiced way of looking at things."

Harry just looked at him curiously. He had never talked with a blood traitor before and if they were anything like this boy, they were rash...yet firm in their beliefs. It was the Greengrasses' confidence in blood supremacy that had helped sway him toward that line of beliefs, (along with another compulsion charm).

"My name's Ron," he said, "Ron Weasley. You wanna find another compartment away from this Daphne?"

OoO

**If you think that Harry should go with Ron, please go to Chapter Seven.**

**If you think that Harry should decline his offer and remain in the compartment, please go to Chapter Eight.**


	7. Chapter Six

OoO

A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Six: The Most Terrible Poverty

**If you are here, then you have decided that Harry will follow the Dursleys from Chapter Two. Chapter Two has been edited; you will be very confused if you do not go back and reread. Thank you.**

AN: Hagrid scene and dialogue and the first part heavily based on HP&SS chapter two and four. Chapter title based on a quote of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, ( "The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.")

_Parseltongue._

OoO

The cool, dark reptile house provided relief from the Sun that had Uncle Vernon sweating like a pig. To Harry's surprise, it was very nearly empty. He had thought this would be a popular attraction, next to the lions, but there was only an elderly woman staring curiously at the plaque next to an entanglement of small snakes.

Dudley quickly found the most interesting snake, (at least to him); the largest one there who looked like it could amazingly wrap around Uncle Vernon several times and kill him in one small squeeze. Unfortunately for Dudley, it was sleeping and didn't look as if it was even going to hiss boo.

Even Uncle Vernon's pudgy fingers tapping on the glass wouldn't wake it up to Dudley's and Piers's displeasure. They eventually moved on with a last disgusted glare at the snake. Harry, however, remained at the case. It must be awful to be the snake, always having to remain in its tank with only stupid gawkers rapping on the glass, and disturbing it.

Harry twitched just barely as the snake suddenly opened its eyes. It might've been Harry's imagination, but he could've sworn he heard: "_I get that all the time...idiots with you?"_

He looked quickly around to make sure no one was looking and hesitantly said back, "_Unfortunately._"

The response wasn't nearly as surprising as the first...it felt almost natural for some strange reason.

"_Your life must be almost annoying as mine."_

"_Were you captured or bred here?" _Harry asked curiously. He didn't know which would be worse, having a taste of freedom and then having it snatched away, or forever living in such a manner for your whole life.

"_Bred...I've always wanted to go to Brazil," _the snake jabbed its tail to a plaque that declared its species' origin.

"Dudley!" came Piers's obnoxiously loud call, "Mr. Dursley! Come see what the snake's doing! You wouldn't believe it!"

Dudley trudged toward them as quickly as he could, "Out of the way, freak," he caught Harry by surprise with a punch to the ribs, which sent him toppling to the ground. Nobody was sure how it had happened, but it did within a blink of the eye. One moment, the glass was there and dandy, and the next, it was going.

Dudley and Piers, who had been leaning in eagerly to the glass, sprang back with screams of horror. The boa constrictor had already uncoiled itself and was slithering rapidly along the floor. The elderly woman shrieked at the top of her longs and ran out, screaming about a man-eating snake on the loose. The snake's rapid progress led to more screams, but Harry had heard, just as the snake passed him, very encouraging words.

"_Here I come Brazil...Thanksss, amigo."_

Amigo was the Spanish word for friend. It may have been out of a rush of gratefulness, but the great snake had called him a friend. The snake had talked to him as an equal...as a friend. No one else had done that out of fear of Dudley or of disinterest or cruelty...and perhaps, just perhaps, if this snake would talk with him and call him amigo, perhaps another one would too...but for now, Harry had to deal with the Dursleys, because he could hear Piers exclaiming, "Harry set it on us! He was talking to it, I heard him!"

It was definitely Harry's imagination when he heard the cupboard doors and belt say, "Long times no see, Potter."

OoO

"_So you're a grass snake," _said Harry interestedly, after doing an excess of yard work and searching and searching for a snake, he had finally came upon one in the backyard.

"_Yessss,"_ agreed the dark green snake. It had a yellow collar behind its head and was apparently female. "_And you are a speaker."_

"_Who else is a speaker?"_ asked Harry curiously.

"_Hardly anyone has spoken to a snake that I've heard of,_" she said, "_However, I once heard from my cousin that she knew a snake whose grandfather once spoke with a man...His name was Lord Voldemort..."_

Harry shifted uneasily; there was something eerily familiar and evil sounding about that name.

"_Well my name is Harry Potter," _explained Harry, "_And yours?"_

"_Flick," _said the snake disinterestedly, she held no great concern for names, "_Why do you speakers have such strange names?"_

"_Your name sounds pretty strange to me."_

"_Mine has reason behind it," _she argued, "_They say I can kill a rat with only a flick of my head. You, on the other hand, do not look particularly furry and Lord Voldemort did not look very...lordy."_

"_Lordy?"_

"_Human adjectives do not always make the most sense, speaker Harry."_

"_Neither do snakes," _retorted Harry, though he didn't really know any snake adjectives.

The snake merely flicked her tail with irritation, "_Yes, well...did you need anything speaker?"_

"_I only wanted to talk...why would I need something of you?"_

Her tail flicked with irritation again, "_I don't know, it was always told that us snakes are supposed to obey speakers unless they clearly mean harm toward us."_

"_Why?"_

"_I don't-"_

"_How is that I can even speak to you? I've never done it before except at a zoo once and-"_

"_I don't know! Why don't you ask this Lord Voldemort?"_

"_I don't know where he is-"_

"_Then go find him! Now, if you'll excuse me, my stomach is telling me to go find dinner."_

Harry watched as she slithered away without turning her head around once. He _had _managed to speak to another snake, though this one had certainly less patience and kindness as the one at the zoo had had.

"Well," said Harry aloud, unaware that he had switched languages, "Try and try again as the posters say."

OoO

Setting free the boa constrictor, had granted Harry his worst punishment ever. He was shut up in his cupboard except for school, one bathroom break, and excessive chores well into the summer. Things had only worsened when strange letters for him kept on popping up everywhere. Uncle Vernon was appearing to teeter on the edge of sanity as he sought desperately to keep Harry away from the letters that always knew where he slept somehow.

Vernon was clearly on edge as he forced them into a little shack on a large rock out on the sea. He was doing his best from any letters reaching Harry, it showed as he gleefully announced there was a storm forecast.

What was so horrible about letting himself read the letters, Harry wondered. What were they about anyways?...

It was late at night, a few minutes before Harry would turn eleven, almost eleven years since Lord Voldemort had been defeated, though of course Harry didn't know that...

He watched Dudley's watch, (his enormous arm was hanging off his couch/bed as he snored through the storm). Ten seconds...five. Four. Three. Two. One.

He was eleven...eleven years old. What was so significant about it, he didn't know, but it was special, he was special...He knew it. He was a speaker.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

Harry shot up. How on earth had somebody weathered the storm successfully to be able to knock on the door of the miserable building?

BOOM!

Dudley awoke with a start and a shriek. In the next second, Vernon had barreled into the room, clutching a rifle in his hands.

"Who's there?" he roared, "I'm armed!"

There was a pause, like the eye of the storm that was currently raging around them. Then- SMASH!

The door came flying off to reveal a gigantic man standing in the doorway. He had long, wild hair and an equal beard with warm black eyes that glittered as he squeezed into the shack, his head brushing against the ceiling. Even though he broke the door, at least he had the courtesy enough to pick it up and place it back.

"A cup o' tea would be nice," he asked gruffly, "S'not been an easy journey."

He made his way to the sofa where Dudley was frozen.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," he said, causing Dudley to squeak and hide behind his father and immediately endearing himself to Harry.

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant jovially, his eyes crinkled in a large smile, "Las' time I saw you, yeh was jus' a baby. Yeh look like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Vernon finally found his voice again, "Leave at once, sir," he demanded, puffing up and showing off his rifle, "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," replied the large man, grabbing the rifle and bending into a knot easily and tossing it in a corner. Vernon half-squeaked and half-gasped before falling silent again.

"Anyway," he turned away from the Dursleys to smile again at Harry, "Happy birthday, Harry. Got summat fer yeh here, -I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

He pulled out a slightly squashed box, which upon opening by Harry's fingers revealed a chocolate cake with **Happy Birthday Harry** iced in green letters.

"T-thank you," Harry managed to say, "But who are you?"

The man chuckled a bit to himself, "Rubeus Hagrid, Harry, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." With a gigantic hand, he reached out and shook Harry's whole arm, "What about that tea, then?"

Once the manner of tea and a few sausages had been settled, ("Don't touch anything, Dudley."), Harry repeated his curiosity about the giant's identity.

"Call me Hagrid," the giant said friendly, "Everybody does... An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, -yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

It only led downhill for the Dursleys then. Hagrid was upset to say the least that the Dursleys had sorely neglected to inform Harry of his heritage and fame, and not to mention lying obscenely about Lily and James's death. Eventually, Hagrid had given Harry a very familiar letter that Harry was finally able to open.

He was not only a speaker, he was a _wizard_. Wait, what if a speaker was in fact a wizard?

"Hagrid," said Harry, "Can wizards talk to snakes?"

Hagrid recoiled, giving a very strange appearance, "Gallopin' gorgons, Harry, where'd you get that idea?"

Harry's mouth was dry, "Just wondering, Hagrid..."

Hagrid looked as if he knew that Harry wasn't telling the entire truth, but didn't comment, "A very few can, Harry...They're called Parselmouths...Dark wizards mostly...the las' one was the Dark Lord who killed yer parents."

OoO

Somehow, Harry ended up at Kings Cross with a ticket to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, a wand, a snowy owl, a snake which was hidden around his arm up his sleeve, and absolutely no idea how to get on the train to his new school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. -Hagrid had forgotten to tell him.

"Now what's the platform number?" came a person's voice behind him.

"Nine and three quarters!" said a little girl's high voice, "Oh, mum, can't I go? Pretty please?"

Harry turned around instantly at the girl's announcement of their platform destination. There was a large family of redheads and if their conversation was true then they were magical like Harry.

"You only have one more year of waiting, Ginny," said the mother, "You go first, Percy."

A tall boy, probably the eldest by the looks of it, marched importantly to the diving barrier between platforms nine and ten. A pack of tourists swarming about blocked Harry's sight though, but he waited. The others looked of school age too and they would surely get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters via the same way.

A boy named Fred, -no George –no really Fred, went next and then his twin, George. They had both walked briskly to the same place as Percy, but where gone suddenly. Perhaps a magical device transported them to the correct Platform?

"Go ahead, Ron," the plump mother was looking around for someone as the smallest redhead boy headed in the same direction as his brothers. The woman spotted Harry ducking his head a way and she smiled as she strode toward him.

"Is this your first time going to Hogwarts, dear?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry, "Do you know how to get onto the platform?"

Her smile deepened as her daughter looked on with brown eyes.

"Don't worry; all you have to do is walk straight at that barrier between platforms nine and ten. You'll go right through to the correct platform. It's best not to stop or be too afraid that you're going to crash. Go ahead, dear."

"Alright," said Harry, and the snake around his arm shifted slightly, waking up. He started at a trot and then began to run toward the barrier...and the crash did not come.

There was a scarlet train next to a platform that was packed with witches and wizards, hugging children, handing off items and pets, talking...He walked amongst the crowd, passing a boy who had lost his toad and his grandmother and then a boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Go on Lee, give us a look."

He lifted the lid of the box in his arms, and the surrounding crowd shrieked in delight as something poked out a long hairy leg. Harry looked on curiously. Sharing a cupboard with them, had somewhat endeared, or at least allowed him to tolerate spiders and it looked like there was a tarantula in the box. Another leg poked out and the crowd pressed closer, blocking his view and he moved on until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train.

He stowed his snowy owl which had been a gift from Hagrid in first and pulled out his wand. He had looked through his school books previously, out of curiosity and in search of a name for his owl and snake, and had come upon a neat spell.

Squinting his eyes a bit, Harry swished and flicked his wand, reminded of Flick, the second snake he had spoken to, "_Wingardium Leviosa," _tried Harry. His trunk didn't move. With a quick look around to make sure no one had saw his pitiful attempt, Harry tried once more, more eager to succeed lest someone see his failure at magic, "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

To his delight his trunk rose and followed his wand movement and was stowed in the corner of the compartment.

"Oh, that's the levitation charm!"

Harry turned to see an impressed bushy-haired girl grinning, revealing large front teeth.

"I haven't been able to get that one," she walked closer and held out her hand brightly, "Hermione Granger, Muggleborn. And you are?"

"Err," said Harry, a bit overwhelmed by her eager, overbearing manner, "Harry Potter."

Her eyes lit up, "Oh I've read about you, -I picked up a few extra books besides the required for background reading, and you're in ever so many."

"I haven't been interviewed," Harry cautioned, having learned the tale of his rise to fame from Hagrid, "So it might not be that accurate."

Hermione looked scandalized that anyone would think that nonfiction books wouldn't ever be anything less than accurate.

"Well..." she drawled awkwardly, "Can I sit with you?"

"Err, sure," said Harry, not sure if he was agreeing to something great or terrible, "Need help with your trunk?"

She brightened, "Yes, thank you, Harry."

They darted through the crowds, not noticing a disgruntled trio of redheads searching the crowd.

"Here it is," said Hermione, pulling open a compartment door. It was surprisingly empty except a trunk. There was a pause as Hermione looked expectantly at Harry.

"Oh! Right," said Harry, swishing and flicking his wand, "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Hermione's trunk rose and Harry carefully floated it back to his compartment as Hermione's brown eyes watched, glittering.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" asked Hermione eagerly once they were settled back in, "I've only managed the _Lumos _charm and the _Aestus estus _."

"Alright," said Harry, beginning to get used to her hyperactive manner, "You make sure you swish and then flick your wand," Hermione followed his words, directing her wand toward a small fallen feather on a seat, "And say clearly: _Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa._ I read that it's really important to say it clearly."

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _ repeated Hermione loudly and the feather rose a bit before falling back down.

"Don't worry," Harry attempted to encourage her, "You'll probably get it."

The "probably" removed the comforting effects as Hermione frowned and tried once more before the compartment door slammed suddenly open to reveal a flustered redhead.

"Can I sit here?" he asked Harry, looking quickly behind his shoulder, "My older brothers are trying to feed me to a giant spider."

Hermione's eyes widened, but Harry struggled to keep from snickering.

"That's horrible," Hermione said and the boy scowled at her intrusion. She looked crestfallen, but determinedly ploughed on, "Of course you can sit with us, right Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said, grinning, "The more the merrier."

The two other first years didn't notice his sleeve shift and didn't pay any mind when he rubbed his arm.

"I'm Ron," announced the boy, dumping himself into a seat, "Ron Weasley. And you two are?"

"Hermione Granger," beamed Hermione, trying once more. She had never had friends at her old school, but perhaps things could be different here. To Harry's surprise Hermione didn't chatter on as he expected and so without further ado, he offered, "Harry Potter."

Ron's eyes widened largely, giving an air of great surprise.

"Are you really? Fred and George, -my brothers-, said they saw you earlier but I thought they were lying."

"Nope," said Harry, thinking that he liked Hermione Granger better than this Ron Weasley. The redhead seemed...rather _fake_. "I'm really Harry Potter."

"Neat," said Ron, grinning, "Wanna go explore?"

Harry noticed Hermione bite her lip; the invitation hadn't included her. He could choose Ron over her, or she over him, or try to include both of them...He, like Hermione, had never had real friends, and this was his chance to have plenty.

"Sure, c'mon, Hermione," said Harry, jumping up.

Hermione smiled again and followed, but only Harry noticed the temporary scowl on Ron's face...

_Later..._

The train ride had taken several hours and throughout it Harry met Neville, the boy who was still searching for his toad. Hermione had roped the three of them into helping Neville search. Ron had been extremely disgruntled about this, pulling Harry back once to hiss, "Why did you have to invite _her_?" Harry could only shrug. What really had set Ron off though, were Draco Malfoy and his goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

The blonde had introduced himself to Harry in a snobby tone and Ron had immediately declared him the son of Lucius Malfoy, noted death eater aka dark wizard. This had prompted Crabbe and Goyle to crack their knuckles, Neville to squeak, and Malfoy to offer a hand of friendship to Harry and a way to escape the other three.

From what he had gathered, Harry knew that Parselmouths were seen as dark and as such were probably quite welcome with dark wizards. And so he hesitated. And Malfoy's cold gray eyes had taken in everything.

Though Harry had declined his offer, Malfoy had left in a friendly manner and even Ron's last snide insult didn't prompt him to any nastiness. Perhaps the dark wasn't that bad after all. If it weren't for the fact that Harry had read that the dark were a backstabbing, ambitious lot, it was almost certain that he might've found a way to please both groups...

"Granger, Hermione!"

The stern witch called Professor Minerva McGonagall startled Harry out of his thoughts as she announced his new acquaintance's name.

Hermione stepped out from behind him and walked rapidly to the stool and eagerly jammed the sorting hat on.

After a few minutes, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron Weasley groaned, "Oh no, we're stuck with _her_."

Harry didn't bother mentioning that he wasn't entirely certain he was going for Gryffindor. Slytherin didn't look too friendly so that was probably out, but all the other three houses looked alright. Hufflepuff had the bonus of being boasted of justness and loyalty, which are excellent qualities to have in a friend. On the other hand, Gryffindor had already claimed Hermione and now Neville Longbottom. Ravenclaw was a still unknown factor, but Harry didn't really fancy himself as a bookworm.

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

Only a few seconds later, "RAVENCLAW!"

A roaring applause from the table under a blue and bronze banner depicting an eagle and then –"Potter, Harry!"

"Go for Gryffindor," Ron Weasley whispered one last time as Harry passed by him and walked quickly over to the stool amidst whispers. The hat dropped over his eyes as soon as he sat down and he waited patiently.

"Hmm...very difficult, you are, Mr. Potter...A good deal of courage...not to mention some smarts and the talent to achieve...and oh my yes, the ambition to achieve success and a place for yourself...what's this?"

Harry gripped the stool tight. Had this magical, mind-reading hat discovered something wrong with his brain?

"Oh...you certainly want a place for yourself...You are certainly very just; though your venom for your living relatives is unfortunate...You're a Parselmouth!" The hat suddenly gasped.

The majority of the hall was quite amused to see Harry Potter go "SHHHHH!" to a silent hat, but were disappointed to not see any follow up.

_I don't want anyone to know just yet and judge because of my ability to talk to snakes._

"Sorry, my dear boy," apologized the hat,"Just a bit of shock, I haven't seen one since-"

_Lord Voldemort._

"Takes quite a bit of courage to say that name, Mr. Potter. Tell me, which do you think suits you better, -Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?"

_I don't know...Hermione and Neville's in Gryffindor and they seem a friendly lot...but I could still be friends with them if I was in Hufflepuff, couldn't I? The Hufflepuff table seemed alright...and Hagrid called them duffers, maybe the Boy-Who-Lived would boost their reputation? But then again, I could spend more time with Hermione and Neville...and maybe Ron, in Gryffindor..._

"Very mixed thinking, Mr. Potter...including Slytherin...but I can see you do not wish to go there...no matter how _welcoming _the dark arts may be...so I wish you luck when I say there is no other place for you than-HUFFLEPUFF!"

The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall and Harry pulled it off to face the occupants excluding the professors. (Had he turned he would've seen a sneering Potions Professor, a disappointed Headmaster, and beaming Head of Hufflepuff.)

More than the a few Gryffindors at their table looked disappointed at this announcement and Ron looked absolutely flabbergasted...but over on the right, the table under a yellow and black banner depicting a badger had roared into mind-blowing applause.

OoO

**Please go to Chapter Nine once it is up.**

AN: Warning: Harry is not about to go "Let's all be friends", become a total passive duffer, or have had become a Hufflepuff without an in-depth reason, (if you didn't catch it this chapter). The Weasleys, like Dumbledore, will not be evil nor totally stupid betrayers.


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